


Inextinguishable hate and love unsubdued by fate

by Kings_of_Gotham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Napoleonic Wars, Anal Sex, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kings_of_Gotham/pseuds/Kings_of_Gotham
Summary: Nygmobblepot AU, inspired by Napoleon Bonaporte and Gaspard Gourgaud relationship.





	1. In the dust a victim razed

**Author's Note:**

> I love Napoleon Bonaparte since I was a kid... Oswald reminds me of him so I created this crazy AU! I obviously took some poetic license, trying to adapt the story and the main characters for the best... the chapters are no temporally connected.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

“Checkmate.” Nygma smiled, making his Bishop going two squares forward on the chessboard, eating Oswald’s horse and leaving open the other’s most important piece.  
“I love playing chess with you, Ed.” the impoverished King of Gotham’s light eyes looked across the black and white squares, looking for an escape, for a winning move.  
Since he took under his wing that man his mind became sharper: Edward had uncommon intelligence and imagination and, while his intellectual gifts continued to grow and he learned more from Oswald, Oswald himself wanted to become better.  
A simple chess game, for those two, represented advanced techniques of war and conquest… but the times when Cobblepot used to reign and battle seemed over.  
They confined him away from his beloved city, from society and from the battlefield; but he still had something beside him able to not let him loose his will to live nor his mental clarity.  
Oswald sneered satisfied, grabbing his Rook and, making the castling move, he changed the piece with the King, making it safe, near the chessboard’s end.  
“You were so close.”  
Edward, enchanted by that smart move, looked at the partner. “Always three moves ahead of your opponent.  
I still have so much to learn from you…”  
Cobblepot laughed embarrassed, stretching his hand towards Nygma, making their fingers intertwine.  
“I wished I could teach you more than chess game.” He confessed with unconcealed melancholy.  
His orderly adjusted his glasses on the nose, thoughtful. He knew Oswald better than everyone else and he could only imagine how much he missed being Gotham’s King him that, from being a lowly soldier, made inroads with the military career until he succeeded in making a coup d'etat taking all the power.  
He wasn’t in good shape but still his mind and ambition were enough to bend everything to his will: Oswald Cobblepot could make a man fight until death for a simple colored ribbon. And he succeeded, oh if he did it! One, ten, one hundred, one thousand men died for him.  
“I hope you know, Oswald, I would do anything for you.” The orderly whispered, tightening the grip on his lover’s hand. “I just want those days back, Ed… I miss it, I miss it terribly.  
The smell of the gunpowder, the soldiers’ shouting, the cannons’ noise.  
Our night plans, in a simple field tent… and…” he blushed lightly, clearing his voice with a little cough “… how we made love those nights. Risking to not be alive anymore the following morning, with despair, anger, fear and pure passion.”  
Edward stood up from the luxurious armchair he was sitting on without leaving Cobblepot’s hand; he kneeled down and brushed the back with a light kiss.  
“Let’s go to bed for today.” He suggested, helping the other one to stand, supporting his lame walk, another indelible memory of the langsyne.  
There were no much chances to successfully revoke his King’s exile, neither to find help from outsiders to realize an escape plan but Edward Nygma wouldn’t give up: what Oswald wanted he would give him. At any cost.


	2. Not tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Napoleon Bonaparte since I was a kid... Oswald reminds me of him so I created this crazy AU! I obviously took some poetic license, trying to adapt the story and the main characters for the best... the chapters are no temporally connected.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

“Not tonight, Barbara.”  
Gotham’s King declined his wife’s invitation of coming back to their rooms after the luxurious ceremony they had at the mansion.  
The Queen looked at the man and sighed, lifting her eyes to the sky. “Who?” she asked looking around to find someone, someone deserving her husband’s attentions.  
She immediately noticed a soldier – maybe a veteran, seeing his many medals on the uniform – he had ash blond hair and a lost look dedicated to one of their great hall’s painting. “Oh, Oswald, it’s so easy to read your mind!”  
Cobblepot took one hand to his lips, hiding a smile behind it; “Is you that know me too well, my dear.” “Yes, I know exactly my husband’s sexual taste. As you know mine! That’s why we don’t have problems between us. And I should say to bring him to our bedroom, in the future!” she pointed out, looking maliciously at a servant girl with amber skin.  
“But… not tonight.” The woman repeated kissing the tip of the King’s nose, then going to call the servant, asking for help.  
The two women went together through the large marble stairs and Oswald looked at them until they disappeared behind a door; he sighed and then turned, looking for that man.  
He found him at the same place and, after fixing some small folds on the jacket, he went closer to talk to him; what he didn’t calculate was the sudden appearance of a very tall boy with whom he clashed, almost risking to fall on the floor.  
“Can I help you?” the King asked irritated, regaining his balance.  
“I don’t think so. Can you?” the taller one smiled, shrugging.  
“What do you want?” Cobblepot smiled, astonished by that absurd situation.  
“What I want the poor have, the rich need and if he eats it he could die.”  
“…are you asking me a riddle?” the King laughed, still incredulous.  
“Do you like riddles?” the man was ecstatical while he asked those questions.  
“No.”  
“So do you give up?” his dark eyes shined, yearning for something Oswald couldn’t understand yet.  
“Listen…”  
“Nothing. The answer is nothing! The poor-“  
“Who are you?” he tried to stop his torrent of words helping himself with a hand’s gesture.  
“Edward. Nygma. I know who you are!”  
Cobblepot raised a brow, lightly exasperated by that absurd behavior. “Then you know that you’re standing too close.” He severely scolded him.  
Nygma took a step behind and kept looking at the King.  
“It was nice to meet you. Keep moving…”  
“Will do.”  
Oswald looked at that strange and young soldier going farther from him but still searching for him, insistently, with his glance.  
When the King went back to his ‘main mission’ he noticed that the man he was truly interested in wasn’t where he left him anymore and, almost furious for the lost chance, he began to walk around the huge hall looking for him.  
Unfortunately he failed poorly, incapable of finding him again through all those people.  
“Edward Nygma…” he repeated with a low voice to remember to search more information about that strange and impertinent boy who sent to hell one night that could have been more pleasant than expected.


	3. The Day When you say "I love you less", will mark the end of my love and the last day of my life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Napoleon Bonaparte since I was a kid... Oswald reminds me of him so I created this crazy AU! I obviously took some poetic license, trying to adapt the story and the main characters for the best... the chapters are no temporally connected.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

Sunset lights were illuminating with reddish hues the exterior of the King’s tent, now retired for a few hours. When Nygma entered he found Oswald sitting at a clerk, bent over it busily writing.  
"Have you found a new battle strategy?" He asked, going towards his back and placing a hand on his shoulder.  
Cobblepot shook his head and then tilt it just enough to kiss the hand of his First Officer.  
"Have I... disturbed?" Edward asked, blushing just for that sweet and romantically absurd attention.  
"I was just writing and, please, Ed, call me by name."  
The officer looked puzzled and then tried to scrutinize, with an unhealthy curiosity, the paper on which the other was writing previously.  
"To the Queen?" He asked quickly, noticing only after a few words, that it was a love letter.  
Oswald pursed his lips, frowning; Then, without warning, he grabbed the paper and handed it to his companion.  
"Read it and tell me what do you think. If it is quite passionate, if you like it.  
Even if, for now, is nothing more than a simple sentence! "  
Nygma swallowed, noticing a different tone in his voice, as if afraid of offending or altered his King.  
He let his dark eyes reading those words, with slow and measured pace, as to want to give the right importance to it.  
"Her Majesty is a very lucky woman." He finally commented, handing back the letter to Cobblepot, meanwhile, he had risen from his position, sitting across the desk to better observe the other.  
"You’ll consider me a little man if I tell you that these words are not addressed to the Queen?"  
Nygma, amazed, settled with a nervous gesture his glasses.  
"Your Maj- Oswald you have a lover that... that makes you so slave of passion?" He tried to correct himself as he spoke, making Oswald smile.  
"Yes, and he’s here, in front of my eyes." He confessed, startling in response to the other.  
"O-oswald I..."  
The king put his index finger on the Officer’s lips and then grabbed him by his uniform and pulled him down, making their lips meet in a thirsty kiss that seemed to last an eternity.  
"Edward, do you love me?" He asked Oswald, making eye-cotact with Nygma. "More than anything."  
The two lovers left space to the passion of the moment, touching each other, kissing, biting, scratching, with an almost animal voracity.  
They found themselves panting and eager for each other, locked in a desperate embrace.  
Oswald, after almost completely stripping him, made his partner lay on the desk; he then lowered the pants of his military uniform just enough to be able to consume that so urgent love.  
Edward, short of breath, spread his legs and searched again for the lips of the King, who didn’t hesitate to satisfy him and, with care, he dedicated himself to prepare his lover for that little he needed not to cause him any harm that could affect the results in the battlefield.  
Before penetrating him the King was lost to admire his beauty, so different from his Queen’s, than any other man or woman he had ever seen on earth.  
He took a deep breath and went to kiss the face of the companion, up to his ear, where, before entering the body of his lover and snatching him a groan, letting him rest his head back, he whispered: "The Day When I say 'I love you less', will mark the end of my love or the last day of my life".


	4. Anything for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Napoleon Bonaparte since I was a kid... Oswald reminds me of him so I created this crazy AU! I obviously took some poetic license, trying to adapt the story and the main characters for the best... the chapters are no temporally connected.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

“General…” one of the doctors that were still in the mansion where Cobblepot was exiled for the second time, welcomed Nygma with a pained expression on his face.  
Edward forced himself not to have any reaction… going back in there, after all that time, after his departure, after almost having not say goodbye, after all those years of loving each other, it was more painful than he expected before he left to regain his remains.  
The man avoided to answer to not be betrayed by his own voice; he couldn’t indulge himself in being weak, not in front of others. He would have been so in due time, on his own.  
The doctor continued to talk and tell the events that happened to their King when Edward left because of the umpteenth disagreement with Jerome Valeska; if only he would have been patient enough to tolerate the way in which the man he loved for almost ten years had started to look at that boy… if only he would have been honest enough to confess to Oswald his jealousness and envy, maybe he could have gripped his hand until the end. He could have reflected himself in his King’s green eyes and donate to him a calmer death.  
He felt his eyes become covered in tears that, with grudge, he tried to send away.  
“I think that he was poisoned by that young man… that Valeska.”  
Hearing those words Edward immediately turned and grabbed the man by the neck, furious and incredulous for what he just heard. “What?” he asked with clenched teeth, unhappy about that insinuation more painful than his feeling of impotence.  
The doctor coughed and tried to calm down the General, helping himself with a hand to let him go.  
“I’m not lying sir… I, myself, did the autopsy.  
I’m more than convinced that he has been poisoned gradually… and the only one who has taken benefit from his death, inheriting almost half of his Reign, we both know who he is!”  
Nygma took his hands to the face and then left closing himself in the room that once was the King’s, his lover. He there indulged himself in a liberating cry, only after grabbing the night vest that Oswald used to wear every night from when he got sick.  
He now and then lifted his eyes, looking around and remembering Oswald in every thing.  
Once he was in front of the wardrobe trying on one of his numerous and elegant suits, once at the window looking melancholic all that a life of power and ambitions left him, once at the desk reading a literature classic, once in his bed looking at him and asking him again, after years, if he still loved him like the first day.  
“I love you… I always loved you.”  
The tears got the fabric wet and the rancor began to make inroads in his heart, just like all the signals that he willingly ignored letting himself be overpowered by jealousy… that man, that Valeska, he didn’t become the King’s lover, for love or passion. He had planned everything!  
“Oswald… forgive me!” Edward cried flustered, continuing to sob on the fabric still full of the smell of the one and only love of his life.  
He remained in those rooms until evening, his face upset by the tears and the pain. But now, in his shiny reddened eyes, a new feel was making inroads: revenge.  
Revenge that he would have perpetuated until his own death. After all… he promised to Oswald too, long time before: “Anything for you.”


	5. Remember that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nygmobblepot AU, inspired by Napoleon Bonaporte and Gaspard Gourgaud relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Napoleon Bonaparte since I was a kid... Oswald reminds me of him so I created this crazy AU! I obviously took some poetic license, trying to adapt the story and the main characters for the best... the chapters are no temporally connected.  
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> So

"And what is that supposed to be?" Valeska asked one of the servants, looking at the beautiful marble chessboard lying in a precious box, without any respect, he opened and raised it to check its contents.  
"A gift to His Majesty by the General Nygma."  
Jerome grimaced, annoyed by what he just heard; he immediately noticed the small note on the black and white squares that with an elegant calligraphy, just said, "Remember that." followed by the man's signature.  
Valeska took one of the shining pawns in his hands and looked at it carefully. Only after a while he rested the piece on the board and hurried to pick up the white King.  
"Oh, Nygma, Nygma. Did you really think you could trick me?" he said and then he started laughing uproariously, terrorizing the servant who temporarily walked away from the room.  
Without losing any time the redhead hid the pawn in the pocket of his jacket and closed the package with the board and then took it with him and went to throw it in the trash.  
Just then passed by, to get a breath of fresh air, Oswald Cobblepot.  
"Oh, my King."  
"What have you thrown there, Jerome?" Asked curious Cobblepot.  
"Oh, nothing important." He raised his hands to the sky, in a theatrical gesture, trying to get him out of there to avoid him to snoop further.  
Oswald, however, wasn’t distracted and moved aside without delicacy his companion, he looked at the elegant box and picked it up. He opened it and knew immediately who the sender was.  
"Why the hell were you hiding this from me?" he growled at Valeska, and then began to profusely cough. The other one approached him trying to take it away from his hands at first, then, seeing that he had an iron grip on it, he merely took him under his arm as a support, accompanying him inside the villa.  
"Because I don’t want you to feel bad when thinking of him, Ozzie." he looked at him apprehensively, then held out his handkerchief to allow him to wipe his lips after those persistent coughs. "Since he abandoned you... you've done nothing but worsen your health."  
"And how could you even think that his gift couldn’t please me?" the King asked angrily, now next to his bedroom.  
Valeska released his arm and then looked at the elegant floor tiles; his face was sad and sincerely sorry while the King addressed those words to him.  
Cobblepot sighed and, after laying in a chair that Nygma gifted to him, went to the young man, forcing him to look at him.  
"I love you. I know you didn’t do it with bad intentions... "  
"I-I'm sorry..." the redhead voice cracked and Oswald placed a kiss on his lips.  
"It's all right." The King assured him.  
After they dismissed, Cobblepot closed the room’s door and dedicated himself to open his present: he read the note and swallowed with difficulty, trying to swallow the knot he felt growing in his throat, then, trying to distract himself, he paused to appreciate the precious marble that Edward had chosen for him and was surprised to find out that just the white King was missing.  
"I’d like to think that you kept it with you in my memory..." he murmured grabbing the black King and squeezing it in his fist.  
A single tear dropped on his tired, pale face, because of the pain and the disease, that was slowly and inexorably advancing. Ever since Edward had left the island on which he had been confined again nothing had any sense... everything had been fading.  
He wanted a different ending, he thought he deserved a different ending.  
Instead Nygma left him there, without even a real goodbye... running away from him, unable to deal with the jealousy towards Jerome.  
The same Jerome who, far from that room where his beloved King suffered, was uproariously laughing for having sabotaged the clever escape plan worked out by the General Nygma, carefully hidden inside the piece that represented his beloved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay but I was very busy in the last period.


End file.
